Secrets of an Anarchist
by etiquette-faux-pas
Summary: Mia Paxton is a political journalist living with her best friend, Jane Foster. Things are relatively 'normal'; even after the New Mexico incident. But while Jane is called away to Tromsø, Mia is unexpectedly roped into advising SHIELD, placing her long kept secret at risk. Who is it that's threatening her, and what does SHIELD want with an anarchist anyway? Rewrite of the Avengers.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a little side project of mine that I've been hesitating to post. Finally I bitchslapped myself, told myself to be a man (which admittedly didn't work out,) and decided to put it up regardless. Pretty much it's something I'm just having a bit of fun writing. Hopefully someone will like it *fingers crossed***

**So here's the deal: this is quite obviously a rewrite of the Avengers, with my own OC added in as a [Loki, OC] pairing. I know this pairing has probably been overdone to the max, but here is my spin on it. Please let me know what you think about it...but do be kind!**

**Thanks! **

**-Ana**

* * *

Chapter 1: Flatmates and Threats

. . .

"The Tesseract has awakened," the Other told Thanos ominously. "It is on a little world, a human world." On his knees before his lord and master, he continued. "They would wield its power…but our ally knows it's workings like they never will." He thought back on the scepter he had bequeathed on the Asgardian, as a token of their alliance. "He is ready to lead; and our force, our Chitauri, will follow." Of a sudden, he sensed his master's dissatisfaction, his distrust of their exiled collaborator.

"He is already under our control! The Tesseract has claimed him." The Other sought to reassure him. Still, Thanos was not convinced.

We must seek another means to control him, should his alliance prove false.

The Other thought back on the legends of Asgard; of all the things he knew of Loki, adopted son of Odin. And then…something came to him.

"There is a way," he said slowly. "One Heimdall of Asgard gave a warning to him in his youth, a warning–nay, a divination– that a mortal shall become his queen." He chuckled lowly, a gravelly utterance that partially sounded like chains rattling. "How ironic: the one who deems himself so far above the humans, bound to one by Asgard's very own watchman."

How is this to our benefit? Thanos demanded, irritated with his minion's excitement.

"We shall threaten her," the Other explained softly, humbly. "She shall be found, and we shall tell him so; not revealing her identity to him–he has yet to discover his folly. We shall threaten to put the mortal in harm's way, should he deviate from the plan. And if he does remain true, yet fails in our conquest…we have our revenge."

There was a long silence. It is good, the villain decided. The Other let out a sigh of relief.

The Other imagined the magnificent forces, the Chitauri lined up in perfect battle formation. His wicked lips curled in satisfaction at the thought of the glory to come. "A world will be his. The universe, yours." His eyes glittered dangerously. "And the humans, what can they do…but burn?"

. . .

It was five thirty AM, in the small homey flat.

Five thirty AM, and the place was a mad house.

Jane Foster, scientist extraordinaire, was rushing about the flat in a desperate attempt to fix her hair while running the coffee machine and talking on the phone at the same time. Her assistant, Darcy Lewis, was calibrating various scientific instruments and chewing bubble gum-which was a little absurd, considering the time of morning.

"Yes, we'll be there by seven," Jane was reassuring someone, while trying out various pins in her hair. "Yeah, uh huh," she said quickly, covering the phone with one hand. "Darc, don't forget to pack the GPS this time. We can't afford to be late!"

"Fine, oh bossy one," Darcy said flatly, shoving the correct device into a black duffle bag.

Meanwhile, the front door creaked open, to reveal a tall, curly haired woman juggling keys and a heavy messenger bag. "Darcy, Jane, I'm home!" she called, brushing her dark hair from her green eyes, and looked up to see Darcy giving her a wave from the kitchen table. "Oh. Hi."

Immediately, Jane's head popped around the bathroom door frame. "Mia! Thank god you're back. Where'd you put the dry cleaning?"

"In the coat closet, you're room was locked again," Mia said, opening the closet door and removing a two piece suit set for Jane. "Must be important, wherever you're going."

"Consultation wif the Minifstry of Science," Jane said around her toothbrush.

"Ah." Mia hung her dark brown trench-coat on the coat-rack, unwinding her long black scarf from around her neck.

"Where were you?" Darcy asked inquisitively, the way your mother might when you'd stayed out too late. "'Long night'?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Please, Darcy. You know I don't do that kind of crap." She sighed, and ran a hand tiredly through her hair. "No, I had an interview with a presidential candidate. I waited to be the last reporter in the room."

"Uh oh," said Darcy with a smirk. "Someone was in trouble."

"Yeah, well." Mia went to the coffee machine and poured herself a mug. "He's involved in more black market operations than I could count, I'm nearly positive he runs a money laundering ring, and more than half of his personal history doesn't check out. He had it coming." She took a swig of the drink. "Not that he knew it came. Probably thought I was flirting with him most of the time; but I got the information I needed. He won't be happy when my article comes out, though."

"That's the way of things, isn't it?" Darcy commented, shoving as many instruments into the bag at once as humanly possible. "Being a political anarchist. And let me guess: the article is due in, six hours?"

"Three," Mia corrected, reaching into the fridge for some chocolate hazelnut spread, and tossing two pieces of bread into the toaster. "But no biggie. I drafted the whole thing on the bus ride home."

"Sweet." Darcy finished packing the devices and necessary materials, and turned to holler at the closed bathroom door. "Ms. Foster, you're wanted on stage in three minutes!"

"Fine, Darcy!" Jane sounded frustrated. Mia exchanged a look with Darcy. "I guess that's my cue," she said, going over to knock on the bathroom door herself.

Mia and Jane had been rooming together since their first year of college, respectively. While Jane had been a bit bookish and shy, Mia had been relatively popular, funny, and intelligent; but could suddenly become bitter and sarcastic at times. Nobody knew why or where these random bouts of anger came from–but then, nobody really knew who she was, or where she came from. She had met Jane one day in their university's library, while looking for a place to stay; they'd been friends ever since. And a strange pair of friends they made: Jane was kind, if not studious and sometimes absent minded; while Mia was sarcastic and a little antisocial: she could be exacting with strangers, but very sweet to those she trusted.

Over time, Jane had toned down Mia's skeptical nature, to a degree (literally); while Mia taught Jane how to be stand up for herself. They had learned a lot from each other and about each other, over the years. Jane had been the nerdy girl most of her childhood, ignored and with not much more than her books for company. Being exceptionally smart had gotten her into an Ivy League school on a science scholarship, but she had little money for much else–hence her taking in a roommate.

Mia didn't like to talk about her childhood, and gave very few details; what she did say was that she had been inquisitive, sometimes more than was good for her, and that she had always an attention to details that over the years became so strong that she was practically a human lie detector. This had led to her interest in politics; mainly for the sake of uncovering the truth behind a person usually full of lies and presenting the facts to the public. She never told why she had chosen that school, or how she was paying for it. Jane had decided not to ask, after seeing the dark look cloud her friend's face at the mention of family.

Now, so many years later, they were as close as they'd ever been; even more so after Jane's trip to New Mexico the year before. Something had happened down there, and Jane didn't like to talk about it, which Mia found strange. Jane usually loved to talk about her 'field trips', but not this one. Darcy had hinted that it had something to do with a guy, which was completely unlike Jane. Neither she nor Mia dated much; their work took up too much of their time, and Mia had a tendency to tick people off.

But over the past year, Jane had become rather uncharacteristically depressed, moping around the flat in pajamas and eating ice cream in between science gigs, for which Darcy teased her endlessly. Mia, for her part, stayed out of the matter; except to occasionally try and cheer her friend up.

"Jane?" Mia called through the door gently. "Want some help?"

A sigh came through the door. "You're probably worn out, Mia. Don't worry about it."

Instead of responding, Mia simply opened the door and went in. Jane stood in front of the mirror, close to tears from trying to pin up her hair.

"I gotcha," Mia said soothingly, taking the pins from Jane's sore fingers and letting the woman's hair fall back down her back before rearranging it properly. "Just give me a minute, and we'll have you in shape."

"I don't know how you can do it," Jane moaned, shaking her fingers ruefully. "It's impossible."

"Aw, pfff," Mia blew her off. "Is the super-scientist giving up so easily?" Jane scowled at her in the mirror. Mia smirked back at her.

"Besides," Mia continued, "You have this great, silky smooth hair that's easy to manage. I'd like to see you try and contain these curls." She pointed at her own head of ringlets. "Now that's difficult. This is fun, in comparison. Like the difference between Play-doh and sculptor's clay." She set the last few pins in and stepped back. "There. All perfect."

Jane swiveled her head and admired the work, a look of relief all over her face. "You're a lifesaver, Mia," she said, turning and giving her friend a quick hug, then heading out of the bathroom. "Darcy, let's go!"

"So... you wouldn't happen to be making cake today, would you?" Darcy asked slyly, slinging the duffel over her shoulder.

Mia, who had gone back to her coffee, shrugged lightly, suppressing a grin. "Maybe. I'll be out most of the day, but if I have enough time before my conference call tonight, I'll toss one in the oven."

"Yuss," Darcy said, punching the air in triumph as she walked out the front door. "Any day, boss!" she called back to Jane. "You've got the car keys."

Jane rolled her eyes at her intern's antics. "Sometimes, I feel like she's running me," the scientist admitted.

"You and me both, then."Mia handed her a travel mug of coffee. "Good luck today."

"See you tonight. And make sure you get some sleep!" Jane called on her way out, pointing back at her friend accusingly. "Darcy can do without cake."

"Can you?" Mia called, once she was out in the hall. A loud groan came back through the door, and she laughed. "Hypocrite."

. . .

Two hours and forty five minutes later, Mia had just sent her article over to her editor at the New York Times for review. She leaned back in her office chair and sighed, clicking off the television on her wall. The news channel was broadcasting another wearying debate about President Winters. She knew more about that man than most, and didn't need to hear the usual speculations over again.

Stretching her arms above her head and looking out her window at the city beyond the glass, she changed her thought train from the one she least liked, and focused on the present. It still surprised her how she had actually been successful doing what she'd chosen to do with her life, instead of what others had expected her to do. Being friends with Jane had been rewarding in that regard as well: both she and the scientist had shared an understanding of the trials of being women in their respective fields, and had overcome some pretty serious obstacles to get where they were now.

After her brief reverie, Mia sat forward determinedly. She still needed to request the ledgers from the Bureau of Conveyances on the recent Delaney trial; she had a nagging suspicion that a Supreme Court judge was caught up in some corrupt dealings there. A judge that was directly involved in another investigation she had going on, concerning a lawyer and a–

On her desk, the household cordless phone rang. Private, the screen read. Well, that didn't help. Half the calls she received were from private or unknown numbers…but those usually came in on her personal phone. Intrigued, Mia answered the call.

"Paxton, Foster and Lewis residence," she said, inwardly chuckling at the thought of Darcy's comment that it sounded like they were a law firm every time one of them answered the phone.

Instead of a reply, a harsh crackling came through the phone. "Hello?" Mia called again, but there was no reply. The phone beeped, signaling that the call had dropped.

"Hmm." Mia set the phone down dismissively, turning back to her tablet console…only for her mobile to ring. It too read Private.

"Hello?" Mia answered the call through her earpiece. The same static met her ear.

"Darcy, if this is another of your pranks," Mia began, when the static suddenly dropped.

"Nargul in-nui argotharny," a strange, harsh voice said, and Mia immediately gravitated to the glock she stored in her right upper-hand desk drawer. That voice was definitely NOT Darcy.

"Who is this?" she demanded stridently; deciding against the glock as her wrist flicked on instinct. But as suddenly as it had begun, the line beeped, the mobile clearly displaying CALL LOST on its display.

Angrily, Mia tried to call the number back; it gave her a disconnected line message and terminated the call in a matter of seconds.

Then, she realized that her hand was tingling. She looked down, and saw herself holding a small sphere of silver energy sparks. She scowled and fisted her hand quickly, the sphere collapsing under the pressure and exploding in a small cloud around her hand. Now was so not the time for that.

"Well, that's charming," Mia grumbled, slouching back in her chair moodily and not a little frustrated. "I may not be a linguist, but that sounded like a threat on my life."

"Not that you don't get those all the time, cat eyes," said a familiar voice from her tablet's screen. Another old friend.

"Pepper!" Mia said eagerly, glad to see a recognizable face after such a nasty incident. She composed her face into a composed and friendly expression. "How goes the Stark-mania?"

"You know, if I hadn't just seen you looking extremely put out, I would believe you actually want to know," Pepper Potts said, eyeing Mia thoughtfully. "Tony has a point. You really are a good liar."

"I'm not a liar," Mia said defensively. "I go around calling out liars: that's my job. I, on the other hand, am merely persuasive. Tony just likes to get my goat because I called out a few kinky details of his social life at one point or another." She grinned at the memory.

"True enough. And he likes you well enough now…well, most of the time."

"When I don't call him cocky, or get into sarcastic smack-downs with him, yes."

Pepper laughed. "Hey, are you available for lunch later? I have an opening around two-thirty, and really need a second opinion on something."

Mia could tell there was more to what Pepper meant, but that she didn't want to say it on a (possibly) recorded or monitored transmission. She looked over to her thick leather bound planner and saw that her day was actually double (and in some places, triple) booked. Then she looked up at her friend.

"Sure, two-thirty works. Usual place?"

"Sounds good."

"Alright, see you there, cat eyes." Pepper winked before closing the call. 'Cat eyes' was a pet name she had come up with for Mia. It had something to do with how she kept a stealthy eye on the city, while being as cool as a cat', Pepper had said–though Mia suspected it had something to do with the coal eyeliner she wore regularly.

. . .

About seven hours later, after running more errands than she cared to count, Mia found herself sitting at a quiet upscale café, reading through a French menu and thinking about her day so far. A highly controversial paper ready for print (her editor had approved it around noon,) a threat on her life (which she still didn't understand,) and six different interviews and short meetings postponed (or skipped) in order to meet with her golden haired friend. All in all, not a bad start. She still had a few stops to make on her way home, and that conference call in the evening, but besides that, she was free.

This was good because though she was desperate not to show it, Mia was tired. She had been on this rigorous schedule for two weeks, though Jane and Darcy had been too busy to notice. Even when she was tucked away in her room, she wasn't sleeping. In fact, Mia had slept a grand total of eight hours of sleep in those two weeks, and the strain was beginning to get to her.

Pepper showed up promptly at two thirty, looking like she'd come straight from a press conference. She was beaming, and full of news: according to her, she had been handling most of the publicity for Mr. Stark while he worked on his latest project: some sort of self sustaining energy conduit called an 'Arc Reactor'.

"In fact, we're installing the prototype tonight," Pepper said proudly, sipping minty lemonade. "If it works properly, Stark Tower should be able to run its power completely off-grid for, oh, about a year."

"Impressive," Mia said, stifling a yawn. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude; it's just been a busy week…well, couple of weeks, honestly."

"I'll bet; with this year's elections being as highly controversial as they are, you must be swamped."

"Yeah, well," Mia said, a little sheepishly. "A lot of that controversy is my doing." She yawned again. "I just hope they don't transfer me down to D.C., come election season. I don't do D.C.; it messes with my head."

After a nice lunch, Pepper grew more serious, the talk turning from work to more serious matters.

"I'm worried about Tony," she confessed. "A few months back, he came across information regarding a program SHIELD came up with, called 'the Avengers Initiative'."

Mia stiffened. "I've heard of that," she muttered. "It had a level seven SHIELD security clearance, but one of my associates got her hands on the material as well. Something to do with planet-wide protection against hostile alien invasion."

"Exactly." Pepper sighed. "I don't even think he qualified for the program, but it seems to be bothering him."

"It was shut down," Mia said thoughtfully. "In favor of another, more complex program." She didn't give any more details; this was actually something that she was tracking down for herself, and she didn't want to give away her leads.

"Right..." Pepper gave her a suspicious, lingering look, but let the subject drop. "Anyway, last night we picked up a transmission from a SHIELD base. It was incomplete, but from the sound of things, the entire base was blown up by some sort of enormous force field. Tony was, of course, immediately interested; but for some reason, he didn't want to tell me anything about it this morning."

"I don't blame him," Mia said, sipping her own iced tea thoughtfully. "SHIELD is involved in a lot of things that are sometimes better left uncovered." For a time, she amended mentally.

"But you know Tony," Pepper insisted. "He's not one to not follow up on something like that; and I'm sure he did. Why isn't he telling me?"

Mia thought for a minute. She knew that Tony Stark was an arrogant git sometimes, but he was an extremely good guy, and didn't want those he cared about in harm's way…especially Pepper.

"I dunno," she finally concluded. "It probably was either something stupid, like someone put aluminum foil in some high powered cosmic microwave and blew the place sky high" –Pepper snickered at that mental image– "or it was important, but Stark doesn't want you to know too much."

Pepper took this news solemnly, then nodded and proceeded to order cheesecake for the both of them. "I just hate it when SHIELD gets involved," she said after the waitress had gone away with their order. "It's not that I don't like seeing Phil Coulson when he stops by from time to time, but..." Pepper sighed. "It's just that, whenever they're behind things, it gets complicated."

"Tell me about it," Mia said quietly. She'd worked with her share of SHIELD agents, sometimes not under the best of circumstances. "But they're not all bad. After all, any organization has its kinks. SHIELD just has…way more than necessary." Both women laughed at this.

"So…what do you think I should do?" Pepper asked. "What would you do, in my shoes?"

Mia hesitated. "Let him have his secrets," she said. "If things get more complicated, let him have his space. You remember how things went with Afghanistan: he may need some time. And if SHIELD pulls him into something, he won't even have the time to explain things until after all the chaos is over."

"So, basically…" Pepper was confused.

"Enjoy the moment," Mia said firmly, watching her fingers swirling with sliver sparks under the edge of the table. "But brace yourself for what's coming."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey HEY! Some people gave a crap. Thanks, people! :D Here's chapter two for you all. **

**Please don't forget to leave a review, and fave/follow if you find you self enjoying this little ficlet my mind has conjured up.**

**Thanks, muchachos!**

**-Ana**

* * *

Chapter 2: Sudden Responsibilities

. . .

"Mia!"

A sharp rapping on her door roused Mia from her sleep of the dead.

"Mia!" It was Darcy. "It's like nine thirty, you should probably wake up! Or you'll be…late for something…" she trailed off.

Mia sat up bolt upright in bed, glaring over at her clock with one eye stuck shut and her hair a disheveled mess. "SHIT!" she yelled, when she saw the time. It really was nine thirty. AM. Nine thirty AM.

Her day had just gone in the toilet.

"Yeah, I know," Darcy said, laughing a little through the door as Mia rushed out of bed, catching her foot on the blankets and falling to the ground with a loud and ungraceful thud. "Listen, Jane and I have been called away to Toronto–"

"Tromsø!" Jane yelled from another room. Probably speed packing again, Mia thought.

"That's what I said!" Darcy called back stubbornly. "Tromsø. We're gonna be gone for a week this time, will you be okay?"

Mia looked over at the door from her closet, alarmed. "A week? That's rather…sudden." Suspicious, her mind said.

"Yeah, just got the call this morning," Jane relayed. "They're paying for everything, it's a good gig. If only we just had a little more…time…"

"We even get a private plane," Darcy agreed enthusiastically. "Part work, mostly vacation. Awesome." Then she called back to Jane, "Where the hell is Tromsø, anyway?"

"Norway," Mia grumbled. "It's in Norway, Darcy." Great; after her creepy ass phone call/threat the day before, she got to stay home by herself for a whole week. "Peachy."

"So…a snowy holiday then." Darcy sounded a bit less enthusiastic now. "Let me just…go and pack my parka."

"Relax, Darc," Mia called through the door. "Tromsø is big on parties. It's literally called 'the Paris of the north'; so you won't be sitting in an igloo somewhere bored out of your mind."

"Then I'll pack my sexy snow-boots," Darcy said sarcastically. "Hooray."

Mia shook her head bemusedly her friend, and came out of her bedroom with a wicked grin. "Don't forget your sexy thermals."

"Damn!" Darcy swore on her way to her bedroom. "This is looking better and better, Jane."

"Oh, perk up," Jane called from the kitchen table, where she was speed-eating cereal. Mia joined her, plunking down in a chair and grabbing for the nearest box. She shoved aside Darcy's cake plate (still covered in dark chocolate crumbs) and dumped a serving in a bowl she'd nabbed from the cupboard.

"Well, good luck," Mia said, much more lightly than she felt. "Whatever they have you working on; a trip overseas will be nice."

"Yeah…" Jane looked at Mia's unusual state of disarray concernedly. Mia was usually always made up perfectly; for her to be this out of order was a bad sign. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I mean, you can call a friend or something to stay over if you want…"

"I'll be fine," Mia reassured her, forcing a smile. "I'll help you pack, if you want."

"Don't you have places to be?"

Mia waved her off. "I've already effed up my day by sleeping in. Helping a friend pack for a trip won't screw it up anymore."

Jane grinned. "Great. I really could use the help."

After wolfing down her cereal at a rate that would probably give her a stomach ache, Mia went into Jane's room and helped her pick out a week's worth of outfits.

"There," she said twenty minutes later, gazing at the clothes folded in the suitcase proudly. "Work clothes, civvies, pajamas, dressy outfit, gym outfit, snow outfit; work shoes, sneakers, booties, snow boots, and towels." She shuddered. "Never trust your hotel to have decent towels. You'll nearly always be horribly disappointed."

With a laugh, Jane slipped on her flats and zipped up the suitcase. "Darcy you ready?"

"Ready to roll," Darcy called back happily. They went out into the main area, where, true to her word, Darcy was wearing an enormous parka–and sunglasses.

"Let's get this show on the road," she crowed, grabbing a few equipment bags and taking them outside. "Ooh, look! They sent a limo!"

"A limo?" Mia wondered. She and Jane moved to the window to see that there was indeed a black stretch limo awaiting the scientist and her intern.

"Cripes," Mia muttered. "They really went all out, didn't they?"

"Guess so," Jane said, slightly uncomfortably. Then she shrugged. "Well, that's a nice change. Beats the Mini any day."

"Oi!" Mia cried, slapping Jane's arm. "Don't diss the Mini!"

Jane laughed. "I left the keys on the kitchen counter, in case you want to use it while we're gone."

"Thanks, I just might," Mia said thoughtfully. It could help her catch up on her rounds, if she didn't need to wait for public transportation.

After waving as the limo pulled away with her friends inside, Mia made her way back up the stairs to the flat; she needed a shower and a really big cup of coffee before this day was going anywhere.

. . .

An hour and a half later, she sat at her desk; dressed in a dark green sleeveless dress with a long sleeved black shirt underneath and a thin black belt around her waist. She wore a pair of high heeled oxfords over her opaque black tights, and her 'cat eyes' were perfectly applied, along with a light pink lip; her hair was clipped up high and cascaded down in ringlets around her ears. Ready for the day, she quipped mentally, before scrolling through her dubiously full email inbox and sighing.

Rather suddenly though, and before she could get to work (or fetch the necessary doughnut,) her mobile went off. She answered it through her Bluetooth.

"This is Paxton," she said primly, typing away at her mayoral candidate overview with one hand while sipping coffee with her other.

"Ms. Paxton, this is Agent Coulson from SHIELD." Mia sat up straighter and set the coffee down.

"Agent Coulson. This is a surprise," she said, sounding surprised indeed. "What have I done this time, to garner SHIELD's attention?"

"Actually, this has nothing to do with you, Ms. Paxton," Coulson replied. "We have reason to believe that your life is in danger, and would like you to come in."

Mia had worked with Agent Coulson before, and knew how the whole 'I'm telling you what to do even though you're a civilian' thing went. "Coulson, I'm not on the SHIELD watch list. Government, sure; but politics 'supposedly' have nothing to do with SHIELD." She made sarcastic air quotes at the obvious lie. "So why the sudden concern?"

Coulson sighed. "Have you received any strange phone calls in the past day?"

Mia's stomach dropped. She said nothing.

"We're sending a car to pick you up," Agent Coulson relayed matter-of-factly. "Be ready in five minutes." The line disconnected.

"Rude," Mia commented, rising from her seat. She didn't like working within the system; too many loops to jump and way too much corruption for her liking (or ideals, you know.) But this seemed fishy. She wasn't so important that SHIELD should be concerned if her life was in danger, which meant only one thing: they weren't concerned about the threat to her life, but who had made it.

True to Agent Coulson's word, a black SHIELD vehicle pulled up five minutes later as Mia stood with her brown trench coat and black scarf wound warmly around her. The blustery fall weather buffeted her from the left side, whipping a few of her curls into her eyes.

The rear car door popped open, and look who was inside?

"Ms. Paxton," said Phil Coulson, with that grimacing smile of his. "Sorry about the sudden disturbance; I assure you it's necessary."

"No problem," said Mia sarcastically, stepping down and taking a seat next to him. The door closed with a heavy thud and pulled away from the curb.

Luckily, the car was much warmer than the weather. "So where are we going?" she asked. "Oh no wait, let me guess: Stark Tower. Agent Fury hasn't forgiven me for slighting Stark in that article–even though Stark himself has. We're even buddies now! Pepper and I had lunch yesterday."

"I know," Coulson said with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But Stark Tower isn't safe enough a location."

"And what is?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he confessed. "And…" he hesitated briefly. "I'm sorry for this."

"Crap," Mia breathed, seeing his look. "Coulson, don't you DARE use that trial sedative on…" She felt a sharp prick in her right arm. "…me."

The last thing she saw was Coulson giving her an apologetic look as the car faded away to blackness.

. . .

Mia awoke to a strange, low buzzing noise.

She was lying in a Spartan, grey adorned bedroom, her messenger bag set carefully on a chair in a corner. On a table next to the small, twin sized bed was a tablet–not her own, which she'd gotten as a gift from Tony; this looked like SHIELD property.

She sat up a bit stiffly to find she was still in her coat and scarf. Finding them unnecessary in the climate controlled room she was in, she pulled them off and tossed them across to the chair. Then, tossing her hair irritably at the thought of Coulson's uncouth tranquilization of her person without consent, she swiped a finger over the tablet device to unlock it. Given from the light streaming in through the window, it was early morning of the next day.

A video of Nick Fury immediately sprang to life. "Ms. Paxton," he said nodding at the camera. "This is a prerecorded message that will be delivered to you as soon as you're conscious."

Mia snorted contemptuously. "I could totally sue for that," she quipped.

"You won't," Fury said confidently, as if responding to her. Mia raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Yeah, I knew you would make some sarcastic remark about your rights as a civilian." His face grew horribly serious. "Unfortunately, the rights of the world may be at stake, if that makes you feel any better."

This sobered her up. Given her lie detecting skills, Mia could tell at once he was being completely truthful–besides, this supported her previous theory of some sort of threat.

"SHIELD is currently at security level seven. I'll leave it up to Stark to explain the details to you."

"Oh, goody. I don't mind seeing old Ironhead again. Although, given the fact he gets to lecture…" Mia shuddered. "This may get ugly."

"You'll find him in the laboratory. And DO NOT wander, Ms. Paxton! I know you're always eager to find fuel for your stories, but now is HARDLY the time." Director Fury glared at the screen before the camera shut off.

"Hmm." Mia said thoughtfully, before rising and saying, "Game on, then."

Leaving everything behind except her tablet (NOT the one Fury had given her,) Mia stepped out of her sparsely decorated room and into an equally sparse hallway lined with doors similar to her own. She turned on the device and allowed its tracking systems to give her an overlay of the craft she was on (decidedly craft, as the floors were emitting a faint vibration that could only be attributed to engines.) She found that she was on some kind of immense air carrier, about a mile above sea level which probably meant they (rather aptly) had some kind of shielding device.

"Illegal observation, Fury," she muttered, following the coordinates to the lab, "didn't even have to look for trouble, when it's right beneath my feet."

Finally, after going down two levels and through countless corridors, she finally reached the correct door, slowing down so that her clacking oxfords wouldn't give her away. Mia saw Tony deep in conversation with a woman sporting cropped read hair that was immaculately styled. Mia immediately felt self conscious, in her deep green dress that suddenly seemed so girly. The woman was rocking her jumpsuit, body glove thing, and Mia the Anarchist looked like a eleven year old. Fabulous.

"Natasha, relax," Tony was saying, while unpacking some interesting looking gadgets. "She's a political journalist, not a ninja spy woman like you." The woman glared at him. "You get the point. In fact, if SHIELD is that concerned for her safety that they would jeopardize their public image by letting Mia Paxton on board their top secret base, then there really must be something to that message." He laughed as he said her name. Mia Paxton. Apparently, the idea was completely ludicrous when she was involved. This was a good enough ego boost for her.

"My thoughts exactly," Mia said, stepping into the room. The woman's hand went for her gun, but the journalist didn't even flinch. "Stark's got a point on the ninja thing. My words aren't dangerous–well…"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Speak of the devil."

"Oi!" Mia back handed him. "I gave you a glowing review on your energy initiative, so can it."

"Take it easy, cat eyes!" Tony laughed, and Mia scowled, seeing how Pepper's pet name had carried over to her unofficial boyfriend/boss. "I didn't mean anything by it. How much of that conversation did you hear, anyway?"

"Enough," Mia admitted, "though not all of it. But I agree with you: SHIELD must have some ulterior motive for bringing me aboard a vessel like this. Just walking down the hall gave me enough writing material for a month. I mean, did you see those drones they have parked in hangar B7? Holy geez. Not to mention this level of technology, which they are clearly keeping from the public. Normally that's something I'd convict you of, Tony."

Stark shrugged. "True enough," he said, fiddling with some dials on a device as he powered it up. "Boys and their toys, etcetera etcetera. Have you met agent Romanov?" He gestured to the other woman. Mia raised an eyebrow.

"Natasha Romanov?" she asked interestedly. The woman threw a look at Stark before admitting to her identity.

"Yes." She held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Paxton. A couple of your articles actually helped in the capture of a few of my old enemies–without my having to be involved." She gave a terse smile. "Thank you."

To Natasha's surprise, Mia grinned at this. "Glad to know it helped someone; usually it kinda works the other way." She looked around at the room. "And don't worry guys: for the duration of our stint on this ship-thing, I'll keep my research on…other things. Not the people I'm working with."

"Works for me," Stark agreed, and the woman nodded. She put a hand to her ear, as if listening, and muttered a short reply. "I'm needed on the bridge," she announced. "If you'll excuse me." She nodded at both Stark and Paxton, and left.

"Well, she reinvents the term standoffish," Mia announced. "I thought I was bad when I'm not working. I know she has her reasons, but…wow."

"Don't worry, she makes me feel like a lesser woman, too."

Mia looked at the man in shock for a moment, and snickered. "Touché."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, well. I don't think we've seen the worst of the standoffishness, either. According to Fury, he's got Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner en route as we speak." He was staring hard at the screen but Mia caught a distinct note of disdain as he said 'Captain Rogers'.

Mia's eyes widened. "You mean Captain America and the Hulk?"

"Try not to fan-girl," Tony said with an eye roll at her reaction.

"It's not that," she said irritably, starting to pace the room. "It's the fact that he's bringing both of them…and he's already got you and the Black Widow herself in house. What could possibly be that bad?"

"So you don't know what's going on." Tony said dubiously. "This may be a first."

"Fury left a note," said Mia, making a face. "Saying I should come to you for information."

Stark sighed. "He would."

"You're sighing? I'm the one who has to listen to another of your 'presentations'. At least this one doesn't have slides."

"Hey! My presentations are good!" Tony objected.

"Yeah, if we were in high school science class, complete with rickety chairs and annoying people throwing spitballs," Mia scoffed, crossing her arms.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. "Alright," he muttered. "I see how it is." He pulled out a device that kind of resembled a projector–that is, if a small black cube could look like a projector. "Check out my new pet project." He pressed the top of the box, and immediately the room around them was turned into a 360° degree, 4D hologram computer.

Mia said nothing for a moment, eyeing the room skeptically. "Is this safe?"

"Of course it's safe," Tony scoffed, moving some icons and files around. "It's a computer."

"You know what I mean."

"No, it hasn't been board approved yet," said Tony wearily.

After a moment of hesitation (during which Stark was bracing himself for a lecture,) Mia touched the screen herself, moving a news tab to a position in front of her for better reading. "Awesome."

Though moderately surprised at the anarchist's sudden (and unexpected) approval, Tony decided not to let it show; and replied in the language they both spoke so well: sarcasm. "What, is the 'justice police' so easily swayed now?"

"Shut up and give me the rundown, Stark," Mia said, watching as the news feed displayed an article about President Winters. She quickly closed the tab, scowling. "Better yet, pull up the information and I'll draw my own conclusions."

"As you wish," Stark said with a dismissive shrug.

He then proceeded to display all of the information he had regarding their current situation. It took a good twenty minutes for Mia to work through it all.

"So this 'Loki' guy," Mia said, narrowing her eyes at the blurred image on the screen, "is trying to take the Tesseract and use it for…what exactly?"

"We don't know yet," Tony admitted. "Hopefully when Dr. Banner gets here he might have some speculations of his own. The only real expert on the Tesseract, Dr. Erik Selvig, was taken along with the cube; so that kind of leaves us in the dark. According to my information, SHIELD was trying to use it as a sustainable energy source."

"Yeah, well." Mia pulled up a photo of the Tesseract onscreen. "My information says otherwise."

Stark knew that Mia, as a political vulture, had access to some of the best sources available; the fact that she was well received in print ensured that those leads she received weren't dead ends. He was about to ask just what those leads were, when an agent came in.

"Ms. Paxton is required on the bridge," the agent said shortly, before walking away to a post a little ways down the hall.

Mia gave Tony a confused look. Tony himself looked surprised, but merely turned off the black cube and said, "Well, go on. Do that thing that you do, with the innocent persuasive behavior and lie detecting. Find out what SHIELD really wants with a political anarchist, and ah...let me know." He winked at her, nudging her with a shoulder as her handed her a laminated card. It was a security pass, level seven clearance. He was giving her the go-ahead to snoop. The cheeky bastard, she thought with a smirk, but she took it from him and slipped it into her dress pocket.

Mia rolled her eyes, but picked up her tablet device off the table and followed the agent out of the lab. "Will do, Ironhead."

"What did I say about that?!"

"Back atcha!" she called sassily. "'Cat eyes'?"

Tony groaned.

Mia chuckled to herself. Vengeance was sweet.

. . .

Out in the ship's hallways, they passed countless agents dressed in grey uniforms. Even Stark had been dressed in black and grey, making Mia wish she had opted for something a little less colorful. On their way up a staircase, the entire ship jolted, Mia falling against a wall painfully. "What was that?" she asked, seeing the agent looking rather unaffected. A strange sense of vertigo settled in her stomach. "Take off," the agent said simply, and kept walking.

When they made it to the bridge, the feeling only increased. The entire ship was sleek and metallic, but the bridge was clearly the pride of the vessel.

There, she saw Director Fury standing proudly, gazing out of the window as the ship rose out of the ocean, its engines revealed. The 'ship' was an air carrier.

"Wow." She said flatly, but still a bit impressed. "This now tops my list for best kept secret in America."

"Ms. Paxton," Fury acknowledged her without turning around; however, two other men did, as did agent Romanov. "I assume you have been brought up to speed?"

Noting how he didn't name Stark as the one who had told her, Mia nodded. "Yes, as much as can be expected–though, why you'd want me to know about your organization's inner turmoil escapes me."

"Loki is a threat to more than just SHIELD," Fury said harshly. "His target is world domination, and as someone who works with egotistical power hungry liars for a living, I figured you input would be valuable." He turned to give her that one eyed stare down that probably made lesser men cry.

Mia didn't flinch; she merely clasped her tablet behind her back and blinked calmly at him. "That seems logical. However, a teleconference could have accomplished that much."

"Indeed." He left the console and came down to stand with the others. "Ms. Paxton, this is Captain Steve Rogers, and Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Ma'am," said Captain Rogers, and shook her hand. Then, for some reason, he gave Fury a ten dollar bill.

"Captain," Mia said politely, refusing to go all googly eyed in front of one of America's greatest heroes. Rogers seemed surprised by her professionalism, but said nothing more.

"Ms. Paxton."

"Dr. Banner, it's a pleasure," Mia said, also shaking his hand. "Your wrecking up Harlem actually chased out a few operations that had been running underground in the slums for awhile. Thank you for that."

"Oh." Banner seemed taken aback. "At least something good came of it." He gave a tense smile before turning to Fury. "So how long are we staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind," he told the scientist.

"And just how close are you to recovering it?" Mia asked curiously.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet," agent Coulson said from below the deck they were standing on.

"Invasion of personal privacy," Mia muttered loudly enough for others to hear her.

Coulson went on. "Cell phones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"You," Mia said, glaring at the agent. Coulson gave her an apologetic smile. When she didn't back down though, he got jumpy. "What?! I already apologized!"

"Yeah, before you injected me with an anesthetic serum that is still in its trial stages of testing!"

"Agent Coulson was only following his orders," Fury defended the man.

Mia snorted. "Well, it's nice to know you're the one who okayed that bit of infringement."

"That's still not going to find them in time," Romanov said, redirecting the conversation away from the stare-down Fury and Paxton were having and back to the real problem.

"You have to narrow your field," Banner agreed. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" Fury stated hypothetically, crossing his arms and looking away from he woman. Mia beamed in triumph.

Agent Romanov looked flabbergasted. Did that journalist just outstare Nick Fury?

"Call every lab you know," Banner told Coulson. "Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places." He looked to Fury, rolling up his sleeves in a business-like manner. "Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

Fury nodded. "Agent Romanov? Could you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please?"

"You're gonna love it, Doc," Romanov said smoothly, escorting the man from the room. "We've got all the toys."

"Just don't touch Tony's stuff, or he'll be seriously miffed!" Mia called after them.

"Duly noted," Banner said, giving her another of his small smiles. Mia smiled back. He seemed like a really sweet guy, actually; if not a little troubled. But then, who in their group wasn't?

"Tony?" Captain Rogers asked, sounding a little…jealous? Was that it? Maybe it was just confusion.

"Yes. Tony Stark is a…an acquaintance of mine," Mia said carefully. "I'm friends with his assistant, Pepper."

"I see." For once, Mia had trouble telling if the man was suspicious of her or merely wary of whom–and what–she was. Coming from him, she didn't really care. It wasn't personal; she just had a few issues with what he stood for.

Fury then got distracted talking to the man, while Mia looked around the bridge appreciatively. The structure and technology was definitely impressive, to say the least; it shouldn't have been allowed without public consent. But Mia knew better than most that the government and any organization powerful to hold levy within that bracket didn't ask for the approval of the masses when it came to special ops.

Finally, her eyes fell on a tall figure monitoring the activity of the data inputers in the room. It was a familiar face.

"Maria?" Mia walked up to the woman and nudged her gently. The agent had been bent over some other agent's shoulder, instructing on how to run a certain scan according to SHIELD protocol. When she heard the journalist's voice, however, she turned around and broke into an uncharacteristic smile.

"Mia! Oh my god!" With a laugh, the two hugged mid-bridge. "I haven't seen you in what, two years?"

"Two years," Mia agreed. "Not since the Markson-Regent occurrence."

"You two know each other?" Fury came up behind them, sounding a bit taken aback.

Suddenly, Maria was all business. "Yes sir. Ms. Paxton and I worked together on a few cases awhile ago, back when I was still working for the Bureau."

"Good," said Fury, sounding too pleased for Mia's liking. "Good to see old friends reunited." He paused. "Agent Hill, will you please escort Ms. Paxton to her quarters? And give her access to all files regarding the Tesseract and Loki; I know Stark told you what he knew, but I would prefer for you to look over all the material for yourself."

Mia didn't bother protesting that she'd already done so; having files willingly handed to her was a rare occurrence, and who knew? Maybe she had missed something important. Already it seemed like something wasn't adding up; especially about this Loki person. Why did that name seem so familiar? She needed to do her own research.

"Absolutely, I'd be glad to."

. . .

Director Fury watched the journalist leave with agent Hill, concerned. He turned and walked to the edge of the balcony. "Coulson."

"Yes sir?" Coulson looked up, surprised.

"Are you sure it's her? She's definitely the one?"

"Yes sir," said Coulson firmly. "100 percent DNA match. She's the girl."

"Good," Fury said again, watching the hallway the woman had left down. "Then let's keep her interested." He pulled a strip of newspaper from his pocket, scanning the headline ponderously.

When the time came, this could be very helpful indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed or reviewed this story over the past few days. Here's chapter 3. Hope you like it! And please remember to leave a review. **

**Merci!**

**-Ana**

* * *

Chapter 3: Nonsensical Concepts

. . .

This made no sense. No sense whatsoever.

How could Thanos possibly know the location of his Intended before he himself did? The very idea was preposterous.

And yet…

The gleam that had festered in the eye of the Other had been so full of malicious confidence, so completely sure of the threat he offered that it was almost certainly true.

Stranger things had happened. No doubt stranger things would. But what Loki couldn't understand was how, after all of the ridiculous fawning he had seen his oafish bro–no, Thor, had put himself through over a mortal; after all of the unnecessary meaningless people he had himself killed to further his cause, after a thousand years of assuring himself that he need pay no mind to the trifling prediction Heimdall had made in his youth, that no mortal was worth the price he would have to pay…how was it that after all of this he was still intrigued by the idea? However faintly.

A mortal? A human, his queen? Certainly not willingly.

What sentimental nonsense; what bilge-infested bedtime story did Heimdall and Odin really think his life would become? Knowing all the while (as they always had) that he was not even of Asgard; that he was an accursed Frost Giant, loathsome and putrescent, repulsive to all who looked upon them? That the form he had taken as an Asgardian in his infancy was a mere subterfuge, a deceptive trick concocted to save him from destruction? And still they had lied, offered him something cheap and fleeting as recompense for the losses he would endure.

How could any such situation not end in heartbreak? He had been bound as a witless child to a woman who would die in a handful of years. Surely this was yet another trick on Odin's part, another scourge placed upon him to remind him of his true place in the All-father's court: beneath everyone else's feet.

Loki hissed in irritation, the sting of pain from the Other's touch still lingering on his face. He had other, better things to concern himself with. Soon he would stand as ruler over the Earth–it's only ruler. Until then, he had much to do to prepare for the glorious days to come.

Soon, the Tesseract would be ready. He would summon his army, and claim a throne–a world– for himself, as payment for that which he had lost. And he would not need the love or affections of a mere mortal to console him. He would be above them all, as he ought.

Then, what would it matter, the fate of his Intended?

It would just become another unnecessary weight he had shed in his rise to power.

. . .

It had been a solid four hours since agent Hill had taken Mia to her room. Four hours was plenty of time for her to piece together what was bothering her, what wasn't fitting in the picture correctly.

Mia had known, of course, as soon as Stark had shown her the information he had on the Tesseract project. She had been playing stupid to see what he knew; which appeared to be less than she did. It was a covert op, and Mia shouldn't have known about it in the first place if it weren't for Hill. Not that she would ever tell anyone at SHIELD that: the agent's 'cover story' was real, they had worked together before. That just hadn't stopped once she'd joined SHIELD.

Phase 2 went against everything SHIELD 'supposedly' stood for, which didn't surprise the anarchist at all. But creating weapons from the Tesseract (if what Hill told her was entirely accurate) was horribly risky. From reading Selvig's Extraction Papers, the scientist clearly hadn't even figured out how to properly harness the Tesseract's energy, let alone control it or manipulate it. The entire project was a case of putting the cart before the horse, and if SHIELD's history was any kind of gauge to the stupid ends they would go to before admitting they were wrong, it could put a lot of people in danger. Indeed, it already had: Loki being the prime example of their failure to protect the masses.

Loki had clearly come for the Tesseract: that much was obvious. But what he meant to do with it was unclear. Even SHIELD's resident irregular psychologists seemed to be at a loss, unable to explain his motives or predict his next move; which gave the man a lot of wiggle room for error.

Or was he even a 'man', by conventional standards? Mia chuckled at the thought as she sent out tendrils of silver smoke from her right hand, levitating her messenger bag from the chair onto the floor where she sat. 'Humanity' as a term was being reinvented every day, in part by the very people she was working with. While Dr. Banner's "Hulk" alter-ego couldn't be called human by conventional standards, his normal, non-mutated form clearly was, posing all sorts of rhetorical questions about the nature of the 'standard form' that humans always reverted to. Was it a base to build up from, or a failsafe? These weren't really questions for a political journalist to be asking, as it was more scientific then politics: but her study of Loki had brought up questions that she had jotted down for future analyzing. Not to mention, her own personal anomalies.

'Loki' was apparently a figure (god, really) from Norse mythology. Mia as a rule disapproved of such kinds of stories, whether of cultural significance or not. However, the proof wasn't in Loki himself (whom only a handful of people had even seen so far, and while under duress) but in his brother, Thor.

Thor had been the piece of the puzzle that finally made everything fit together. Apparently, the demigod had paid a visit to Earth the year before, supposedly 'banished' from his own kingdom of 'Asgard'. Mia still thought it completely phony (most of the pictures SHIELD had taken of the man looked photoshopped. A flying, anti-gravitational hammer? Seriously? And while the man was impressively tall, strong and good looking, his armor looked like it had come from the nearest cosplay retailer–it wasn't exactly convincing.) Mia thought of how Jane would have one of her 'field days' if she'd seen something like that…and then it hit her.

New Mexico. All of this had taken place in New Mexico, a year before.

Jane had…been involved?

There were photos to prove this theory true. Finally, it all made sense! Darcy's comments about how Jane was moping over a guy (which hadn't made any sense at the time) now were perfectly logical. So that was why Jane didn't like to talk about it: she had fallen for a god, who had then returned to his own planet after the fighting was done and hadn't returned.

Yikes.

If he were around, Mia would have punched him for upsetting her best friend. Then, thinking how that wouldn't really hurt him much, she decided she would have blasted him with her 'magic'.

Mia stared at her hand, watching the silver strands of sparks swirl in her palm. She had never understood why she had this strange ability; even her parents had been at a loss to explain it. No one in her family had shown any such ability before. It wasn't just show, either: Mia literally had the ability to manipulate matter. As a child, she hadn't cared for toys, preferring to practice creating things out of her 'magic', as she'd dubbed it at age three. So many scientists and doctors had come to observe her, like a test subject in her own home.

"It's completely beyond me," one of the better ones had said. "The girl displays abilities that shouldn't be physically possible. This 'silver matter' of hers is completely under her influence. It shouldn't even exist, yet there it is. It is a fact: an improbable, impossible yet completely undeniable fact."

She had learned from a young age that such things were not acceptable, and her parents had restricted her contact with the outside world in an attempt to keep her 'anomaly' a secret. Of course such perfection was necessary, considering who they were…

Mia scowled at the thought of her parents. They were her biggest, best kept secret, even considering her 'condition'. She had gotten away from them, gone to college, created her own life…but still she harbored that fear of who she was, what she was. A fear she saw echoed in the equally strange people around her. They were afraid of themselves, to some degree; and while Mia was perfectly comfortable with her 'magic' in private, she had mentally conditioned herself to forget it existed while around others. The thought of using it in front of others was still a complete impossibility in her mind. She never stopped to consider why.

According to the internet, 'Loki' was the god of Mischief in the Nordic pantheon. Fantastic; the world was being taken over by a prankster. Still Mia couldn't understand why. She spent a good amount of time reading everything she could about him and his family, the royalty of a place called 'Asgard'. Okay, that proved that the guy posing as Thor had done his research. In short, it didn't prove anything.

The legends surrounding these god figures were absolutely ridiculous. The 'Asgardians' were nearly perfect, living in a utopian society modeled on Nordic culture and traditions. The utopian aspect was somewhat dimmed, however, by the constant power struggle between Loki and his brother Thor. Apparently the two were complete opposites of each other: Thor was golden and perfect, the ideal Asgardian warrior (and prince,) while Loki was sinister, spiteful, and in fact, rather ugly. Most renditions of him portrayed a creepy, unsettling red-haired jester who was spindly and downright evil looking: stereotypical villain archetype.

Strangely, Mia found no images related to the man in the records agent Hill had given her access to on her tablet. All of the security footage (from what Mia could only assume was yet another top secret base) had been edited: they had blurred over his face, though from what she could tell he wasn't as spindly as she would have guessed. Thin, but the video quality was too poor to see much else. He was carrying a long spear that had an inset which seemed to glow the same shade of blue as the Tesseract. Mia suspected it drew from the cube as a power source–a successful one, which was more than SHIELD had managed to make. No doubt they wanted to get their hands on that for the Phase 2 program.

Back on the topic of Loki, he definitely lived up to the stereotype–at least on the page. According to myth he was married to some Asgardian woman named Sigyn, and was the father of 1. The embodiment of Hell (apparently a woman called Hel), 2. A wolf, 3. A serpent, and the mother of an eight legged horse. Frankly, she really didn't want to know how much of that was true. Having worked with enough politicians to know that way more than half of their back-story is usually lies, Mia figured that and eighth of all that was probably fact–however, that did leave the possibility that he had parented some unlikely creature in the past, which was more than offsetting.

"Talk about a kinky weirdo," Mia muttered, scrolling through yet another page crowded with Nordic names and places of myth. She didn't like to think what might happen if he was let loose on the world as its unchallenged ruler. "Still, I've seen worse."

Since he had escaped from the base where the Tesseract had been housed (and most of Phase 2, Mia figured grimly,) Loki's whereabouts were unknown. She knew from the conversation on the bridge that they were tracking him down as she worked, but she could only hope that they found him before he subjected any innocents to his trickery, or violence.

So, Mia arranged the facts in her mind: Phase 2 had been (discouragingly) relocated, SHIELD had no idea where Loki was and appeared to be preparing a small task force of heroes to fight it's battles, should worse come to worse. And, for some reason other than insight, they needed her. This set Mia on edge: they couldn't know about her 'magic', could they? Or her other secret?

As she was fretting over the details she couldn't seem to narrow down, a knock rang on her door.

"Come in."

An unidentified agent poked her head in. "Ms. Paxton?"

"The one and only," Mia replied dryly, shifting her half asleep legs to one side. "What can I do for you?"

"Director Fury sent me to inform you that Loki has been located."

Mia sat up straighter. "Already? Cripes."

"He'd like your presence on the bridge immediately." The agent said, and went out quickly.

"They're all about manners around here, aren't they?" Mia groused, shaking out her sleepy legs as she rose shakily onto her oxfords. "Well, duty calls." She scowled, hating the idea of being employed by the government.

. . .

Mia found her way to the bridge with relative ease, having been led there twice already. It was located in the forepart of the ship, unlike most bridges, so it was simply a matter of walking in the right direction until you ran into it. When she arrived, she found agent Hill and Fury standing at the console together, talking. Fury looked up when he saw her approaching, and gave her a grim smile. That was unnerving. Then Hill turned around, looking vaguely put out.

"Ms. Paxton," Fury said. "Have you had enough time to bring yourself up to speed?"

"As much as can be expected, given the circumstances; yes." Mia nodded briskly and clasped her tablet before her in an efficient way. "I won't be able to create any conclusive theories until I can interact with Loki face to face."

"That can be arranged," said Fury, watching her closely for any signs of excitement. He had heard that journalists of her type often got excited at the prospect of working with a dangerous client–in a way that could interfere with their performance. Luckily, the look on Mia Paxton's face was one of gravity and decorum, not eager anticipation. Clearly she saw the man for what he was: a dangerous criminal, not an interesting specimen to poke and prod like the psychologists wanted to. That was the reason Fury had sent them away, and allowed an anarchist of all people on-board his top secret vessel. He could do with skepticism instead of scientific inquiry.

"Good." Mia was glad the Director had granted her access so quickly; she had been expecting to have to persuade him. This saved time. "Where is he currently located?" She asked, taking a step closer to the console.

Fury waved her over, and pointed to a screen. "Stuttgart, Germany."

"Twenty eight Konigstrasse," Mia read aloud, and cocked her head. "An art museum. Interesting." She quickly searched the internet for events at that location. "An exposition on the Nordic-Germanic period, with artifacts on loan from the Hague. Dr. Heinrich Schāfer will give a presentation on the historical significance of this period." She rolled her eyes. "How lovely for the demigod's ego."

"Captain Rogers and agent Romanov are already en-route to his location," Fury explained.

Mia scoffed at the thought of the soldier. "You're sending him in, alone?"

Fury raised an eyebrow at her. "What, you doubt the Captain's performance ability?"

"After being encased in an ice cube for seventy years with no gym nearby, yeah. A little."

"And just what is it that you propose I do?" Fury said, getting his irritated tone on that made nearly every agent in the room look up in alarm.

Mia stared at him, unaffected. "Send in Ironhead as back up. Just in case. If I'm wrong, it doesn't hurt. But if I'm right…" Mia shrugged. "Besides, I suppose Romanov will be running air reconnaissance and won't be on the ground at all, correct?" She sighed. "I'm just saying: this guy is a trickster: the trickster. You'll want to have all of your bases covered. Think of the populace."

The agent's watched spellbound as Fury deliberated. "That's not a bad idea, Paxton," he said finally, and spoke into his earpiece, telling someone to get a hold of Stark and give him the go ahead. The room returned to its normal hum of activity, but Mia didn't miss the awestruck looks she received: she had just convinced Nick Fury to change his mind.

"It'll take an hour or so for the plane to arrive," Agent Hill told her. "Perhaps you'd like me to show you the mess hall?"

Mia suddenly realized how hungry she was. "Yeah I'm kinda running on a cup of coffee and a few bites of cereal…my breakfast was interrupted." She glared over at Coulson, who shook his head and turned away, grinning. It was only really banter at this point anyway. "Lunch would be good."

The mess hall had surprisingly good food. Mia ordered herself a gardenburger with fries and sat down next to Hall, who was actually on break for a few minutes–a miracle, given her extremely busy schedule.

"You don't seem to be too concerned about capturing Loki," Maria mused, training her steely blue eyes on Mia's face. "In fact, you seem to be taking this whole thing in stride: gods and heroes, the whole top secret base deal."

"Well, it's not exactly like I didn't know they existed," said Mia, giving the agent a pointed look. "Well–minus the god part. That was unexpected, but certainly not surprising. In my line of work, you see pretty much everything. I'm sure you understand the feeling."

Agent Hill nodded, and sipped her diet soda quietly. "Phase 2 was relocated, after the attack," she told the noshing journalist after a while.

"I know," Mia said, and finished her bite of burger before continuing. "I gathered as much. That project would be kept as close to the Tesseract as possible, so…" she shrugged. "It made sense."

"It's on board."

Mia looked up abruptly. "I'm sorry?"

"Phase 2. All of the gear was moved onboard the helicarrier. It's all on this ship, in secure storage."

Mia considered this, while eying her fries. Something wasn't sitting right with her. "Well that's good to know." She tried to rein in her swirling thoughts, follow them to the source of the problem. She reached for the glass bottle of ketchup, and set her hand on the lid. Silver sparks shot out from the metal cap, like static electricity. Hill jumped.

"Sorry…that's weird," Mia said, frowning thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that is weird. This entire ship is grounded, because of the equipment. Shouldn't be able to conduct like that…" the agent eyed the bottle suspiciously.

"No, not that," Mia corrected. "I mean, yeah that's a little strange. But I mean, why a museum? What is it he wants there?" She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "Everything Loki's done so far has had a sound logic behind it. So what's his angle? What does he need that a museum has to offer?" She thought back on all of the details she had read over the past few hours. Some part of his plan was still incomplete…

Agent Hill looked disturbed. "That's actually a really good point."

Then, it hit her. "Holy geez," Mia breathed, standing up in a hurry.

"What? What is it?!" Agent Hill demanded, seeing the woman's horrified face.

"We've got eyes on Loki," Mia said, keeping her voice down so as not to attract attention from the other agents in the room, "so what's the rest of his crew doing?"

Agent Hill (rather unbelievably) paled.

"And what's the main thing, what the lynchpin of his plan?" Mia clenched her fists tightly to stop her 'magic' from getting away from her in her state of agitation.

"The Tesseract?"

"Exactly." Mia got up from the table, abandoning her lunch. "Tell Fury: he's there for the Iridium. His men are probably breaking in as we speak."

"Director Fury, Ms. Paxton has had a breakthrough," Hill relayed as she stood there, one hand to her ear. "She told me to tell you, Loki is after the Iridium." There was a pause. Hill looked up at Mia, who had been waiting tensely. The agent looked grim. "We're needed on the bridge."

. . .

Mia was still plenty angry as footage from a traffic camera was streaming across the screen of a room just off of the bridge. She sat at a table, watching the people from the museum rushed out into the streets, running from the horrible sight they had just seen. Loki had just taken out a man's eye with a strange device, at the exact same moment the building's security protocols were overridden. Fury had informed her that by the time agents had arrived on scene, the crew and the Iridium were long gone.

Loki, however, like any power hungry politician, was eager to show off for the crowd…or was it himself?

Already he had blown up a police vehicle with a blue bolt from his staff, then corralled a large group of people in the plaza outside of the museum, somehow cloning himself to intimidate them and keep them from running away. He was dressed in what Mia could only assume was full Asgardian battle armor, an outlandishly large helmet adorned with huge horns on his head. He was cocky as all get out, emanating a regal, overbearing yet dangerous air that Mia could feel even over the camera.

Still, the camera quality was so poor that she couldn't make out the man's face. It was rather apparent though, that he didn't have fiery red hair. But the situation was making Mia very uncomfortable.

"This is a blatant defiance: a demonstration of power," she told Fury. "He's making a point: he will have his way, and he will take it by force. Those people are all in danger; he won't hesitate to kill them to further his cause."

"Tell me something I don't know," Fury snapped, though it did make him feel better about what he was doing to stop the maniacal god to hear it from an expert.

"Those people are not collateral!" Mia cried, pointing angrily at the screen. "They just saw someone murdered before their eyes; they're scared, and they don't know what's going on. You need to get them out of there, NOW!"

"We're doing what we can, Ms. Paxton," Agent Coulson reassured her, walking into the room. "Sir, the bird is in place. We're ready for the drop."

"Good. Tell Rogers it's a go, then have Romanov go to location; we have civilians in a hostile situation, we need to clear them out!" he ordered into his ear piece. Mia felt slightly better–until she saw Loki step down into the mass of frightened people.

"What is he doing?" she whispered, green eyes narrowed in confusion as she watched him gesturing in a grandiose manner with his hands. "Lecturing…giving a speech," she realized. "About what? He doesn't need to convince them to take over the world. What's the point of this?" She watched him carefully, her breath catching in her throat as an old man rose from his knees, defying the god. She wished wholeheartedly that she could hear what they were saying. She could see from the tilt of Loki's head alone that he was giving a sassy one-liner. Then he was raising his staff, pointing it at the man…

"Oh god," Mia said, and slammed on the communication console. "Rogers, get in there!"

Fury looked extremely miffed at this breach of authority; however, Mia was too busy being relieved. No sooner had she spoken that Captain Rogers jumped into the frame, him and his vibranium shield protecting the elderly man from a bolt of blue energy from Loki's spear. "Copy that, Paxton," he replied in the COMM, and Mia let out her breath in relief.

"Thanks, Captain," she said appreciatively. She liked the man a little better now. When she thought about it, she liked Steve Rogers; and the hero he was while in spandex; just not that he had to wear the star spangled every time he became that hero.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing." The line remained open; and even though Fury was glaring daggers at Mia for her insolence, he made no move to shut the device off.

"The soldier," said a contemptuous voice that Mia could only assume was Loki. She had seen him get struck by the rebounding bolt, and now he was rising to his feet. A sardonic if breathless laugh came through the speaker. "The man out of time."

"I'm not the only who's out of time," Rogers explained flatly, a loud rushing sound filling the speaker momentarily before agent Romanov's voice cut over the crowd on a loudspeaker. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," she ordered.

"Yeah, like that'll work," Mia muttered quietly. Fury, who had stopped glaring a while ago, shot a glance in her direction. "What? It's not exactly his MO."

As if to prove her point, Loki fired a bolt out of the frame, towards what Mia could only assume was the plane. Rogers then took it upon himself to throw his shield at Loki; it literally bounced off of the man and returned to its owner.

What followed could only be described as an embarrassing (if not well intended) fight. It basically entailed the American symbol getting pummeled rather unimpressively in front of the German population. The only good thing about it was that the people managed to run away during the encounter. "The guy's all over the place," Romanov commented worriedly. Mia shot Fury an 'I told you so' look.

"Hey, at least the speech was good," Mia said cheerily.

"I heard that," said the Captain, sounding strained but annoyed.

"Eyes on the prize, Captain!" Mia called, deflecting in an uplifting way.

"Agent Romanov," said a familiar and dryly sarcastic voice over the intercom. "Miss me?" In typical Tony fashion, AC/DC began playing over the audio.

"Tony baloney." Mia was beaming now. As much as she and Stark bickered and jibbed each other, she had full confidence in the guy, especially in his metal suit.

"Paxton." Stark sounded pleasantly surprised. "This was your idea, wasn't it."

"Not gonna lie, Stark." Mia smiled. "Now help Cap kick Loki's self righteous ass. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude and power trip have really pissed me off."

"Anything for the resident anarchist," Tony said, as two golden beams shot Loki square in the chest, knocking him backward onto some low steps. He landed in the picture a moment later, pointing as many weapons as possible at the god. "Make a move, Reindeer Games." Rogers came to stand beside him, panting.

Slowly, reluctantly, and probably with a great deal of ego bruising (the very thought of which made Mia very happy,) Loki raised both of his hands, his armor disappearing.

Mia gave a cheer, and punched Coulson in the arm in a friendly way. He looked surprised for a moment before giving her a genuine smile. Even Fury looked a little relieved.

"Good move," Stark, commented, before giving an acknowledging nod to the man beside him. "Captain."

"Mr. Stark," the Captain replied, equally stiff.

"Good work boys! Wooo!" Mia punched the air.

"Um, aren't anarchists supposed to be temperamental and demanding? I don't remember happiness being under that definition."

"Oh, shut it Stark, before I tell them all about what Pepper and I did to you with the orange juice."

A groan. "Would you stop bringing that up?"

"Sure; as soon as you haul his sorry hide back here, so I can have a go at him."

"It's a deal."

"Agent Romanov, please remain in contact with the bridge. The rest of you, get off the line," Fury ordered.

A chorus of "yes sir" rang through the speaker before the Director terminated the call. The camera cut out the transmission. Fury turned back to the small group in the alcove with him. "Coulson, make sure the cell is ready for his arrival. Hill, with me. Paxton…" He stared at the journalist for a moment, unsure what to tell her. Finally he settled on, "Prepare yourself for your turn with Loki."

It then hit Mia fully what she had just agreed to.

Oh, shit, she thought.

Taking on a self obsessed, psychopathic villain-god for a mental spat couldn't be too bad, could it?

Shit.


End file.
